Speculations on Love
by ChibiWhiteFerret
Summary: Ron and Draco are "seeing each other." Draco's in love with Harry, Ron's in love with Hermione, and Draco and Ron are together. Oh, angsty, angsty. Ron's POV on his and Draco's relationship. Contains SLASH (m/m relations). Please R&R. Please??


**Title: **Speculations on Love  
**Part:** 1/1 complete  
**Author: **Savannah (~ChibiWhiteFerret~)  
**Rating:** R (just in case)  
**Spoilers:** none  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Draco, Ron, Hermione, or Harry and I'm not making any money from this or anything.  
**Warnings:** Slash, mild cursing... mentions of yaoi sex...  
**Pairings:** Draco/Ron, mentioned Harry/Hermione  
**Genre:** Angst, romance  
**Summary:** Ron's POV on his and Draco's relationship  
**Feedback:** PLEASE!!!! My first try at Draco/Ron and my first at angst, heh. ^_~ Any and all feedback is muc happreciated.  
**Author's Note:** I got my period yesterday! Why am I telling you this, you ask? Because it helps explain why the hell I wrote this. Out of my bloody mind, I am. *sighs* Most of what I read is angst but all of what I write is humor. Well, it was. Until now, that is. Oh, angsty, angsty...   
  
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He's in love with my best friend. My best friend, who's in love with my other best friend, who I'm in love with. And despite that fact that he and I are both in love with other people, here we are, every night, shagging. Why do we do it? I honestly don't know. Probably because we can't have what we want; can't be with the people we truly love. So we turn to each other for comfort. It's fucked up, I understand that. I don't deny it. But it's just the way things are. Plus, he's really good in bed.  
  
So here I am again, with him, as always. Drowning my sorrows in Butterbeer and relishing the feel of his own soft skin against mine. He's in love with Harry, I know he is. Even if he won't admit it, not even to himself. We're together every night, shagging excessively, trying not to think about things. He tries not to think about The Boy Who Lived. The Boy He Can't Have. I try not to think about Hermione. I'm in love with her; I always have been. I'm not ashamed to admit it. I'd just never say anything to her about it. Or to Harry. Because not only does Hermione not love me, but she loves Harry. And he loves her back.  
  
That's why I'm here, with Draco. Because we understand each other in ways that other people can't. The people we love are in love with each other. So here we are, night after night, fucking and trying not to think about them. It's painful, you know. Thinking about the fact that my best friend is doing the same thing with the girl I love. And it hurts. It hurts a lot. So I turn to Draco and he takes my mind off things. I do the same for him. As long as we're together, we don't have to think about it. Don't have to think about them, about Harry and Hermione. I don't want to think about them. All I want to think about is Draco and the way he feels on top of me, inside me, all around me. That's all I can think about when I'm with him. All I can think about is him. And that's not a bad thing.  
  
I keep borrowing Harry's invisibility cloak when I sneak off to meet Draco. He knows I take it, and he never asks me where I go or what I do. I don't think he's figured out yet. I hope he doesn't figure out. I'm not sure what he'd do. But he knows something's wrong with me. Oh, he knows. Hermione's noticed, too. The bags under my eyes, the fact that I'm always tired. She noticed two weeks ago. What's wrong, Ron? she asked me. That's what I always say. Nothing. Because I can't tell her the truth. And I don't want to.  
  
Can you imagine? What's wrong, Ron? And instead of saying nothing, I tell her the truth. Well, Hermione, I'm in love with you. And since I can't have you, I've been fucking Draco Malfoy. Well, actually, he's been fucking me. Every night. Don't ask me how my brain works, I honestly don't know. But he's a good fuck and he makes me feel better. Since I can't be with you, I mean. What would she say if I said that? She and Harry'd probably think I was a complete nutter. They'd send me off to Madam Pomfry. They wouldn't listen. And what if they did?  
  
If they believed me, if they understood what I was saying... well, things would go from bad to worse. Harry'd hate me. I'm not supposed to be in love with my best friend's girlfriend. But I am. I can't help the way I feel. It's just... the way I feel. And as far as shagging Draco Malfoy goes... well... I told you he was a good fuck. And I meant it. I never thought I'd see the day when I actually had to admit this, where it was actually true but... well. Draco Malfoy is my lover. There. I said it. It's strange, though. Thinking of him as my lover, I mean. He is, I know he is. He has been for a few a while now. But when did I actually start thinking of him that way? As my lover, I mean. I'm not sure.  
  
But that's what he is, my lover. Not that we love each other. It's a strange relationship we have. I'm not sure either of us understands it. But we do understand each other. Perfectly, actually. It's pretty funny. The fact that we can practically read each other's minds now. He used to be my enemy. But once you submit, once you let that other person control you... well, the dynamic sort of changes. I never thought that I would ever open myself up to Malfoy, of all people. But I did. And no, I don't regret it. I don't regret a moment of it. Not one second that I've spent with him has been anything less than satisfying.  
  
I love Hermione. In my heart I know I do. I'll always love her. But Draco's managed to worm himself in there, too. I'm not sure how he did it. And I'm not sure I care. Point is, he did. I don't love him, not really. At least, not in the same way I love Hermione or my family. Or even the way I love Harry. But I care about Draco. I know I do. He knows I care. And I'm pretty sure he cares about me too. Pretty sure? Actually, I'm pretty damn sure. Almost positive.  
  
He'll never love me the way he loves Harry. I see the way he looks at him. People think that look in his eyes is rage, but I know better. Every time he looks at Harry it's lust. And yeah, rage too. But it's only to cover up the way he really feels. He loves Harry the way I love Hermione. And he hates that he can't show it, that he can't tell anybody. I kind of hate it, too. Not that telling the truth would make things better, really. But it would make him feel better if he got it off his chest. It'd make me feel better, too. I know that's never going to happen, though. He'd never let it happen. He closes himself off to the world. And he enjoys his solitude. That's just the way he is.  
  
I'm not sure I understand anything anymore. It's not so much about comprehending things as just letting them be, these days. I don't really care to understand. All I know is how I feel. And even that I'm not 100% sure of. Sometimes it gets to be a bit much. All the second-guessing, the supposition, and never being completely sure. But there are a few things I do know.  
  
I know that even though I don't love Draco now, I probably will some day. And I know that the truth will come out about us. It's bound to. You can only sneak around Hogwarts for so long without being caught. I know that I harbor some odd mix of feelings for him, although I'm not sure what they are. But I know that I feel complete when we're together. I forget about Harry and Hermione, about Potions class, about all the stress in my life. When we're together all I can think about is him and me, together. And I know that I like feeling that way.  
  
When we first got together it was just some sort of release for us. A way to say the things we couldn't say. Instead of expressing ourselves with words we do it with touches and kisses. But it's something more than that now. Yeah, it's a way to get our minds off things. But there really is more to it than that. It's not just fucking. There's something there, something I don't understand and I don't try to. It's just the feeling I get when I'm with him. I feel like everything is going to be all right, like I don't need to worry anymore because he's there. It's... comforting.  
  
There are things I don't want to think about, don't want to talk about, don't even want to deal with. He understands that. He respects that. When we're together we don't talk about Harry or Hermione. Actually, we don't really talk that much at all. It's mostly sex. But like I said, it's more than that. We communicate with each other without words because we don't need them. We can sit together in perfect silence and understand each other just fine. That's something I'll never have with anyone else. It's something special and I understand that.   
  
We've never talked about his father. Actually, we don't talk much about him at all. When we do talk, it's mostly about me, about my family. He likes to hear about them and I don't know why. He's never said it, but I can tell that he's envious of me. I never would have imagined that I would have something that he would be jealous of, but he is. My family. His home life is utterly unsatisfying. He doesn't have to say it; I know.   
  
It's strange, actually. I can see what he gets out of our relationship. Well, sort of. He doesn't feel loved by his family and he looks to me for comfort. Who ever would have thought he'd turn to me? But he did, and I don't mind. Not at all. Thing is, I'm not entirely sure what I get out of us being together. Besides getting fucked by him, that is. Yeah, we both get sexual gratification. But other than that, he comforts me in some weird way that I don't understand. He fills this void inside of me that I never knew was there. It's scary, actually. I think I've started to depend on him, and him on me.   
  
I'm not sure what to think. I keep telling myself that what I feel for him isn't love. But now, after all this reflection, it makes me wonder. Maybe it is. And maybe he loves me back. But even if that is what it is - even if we are in love - neither of us is anywhere near ready to admit it. He's still in love with Harry and I am with Hermione. I'm not sure it's entirely healthy, our relationship. But I hate trying to analyze things. I keep telling myself not to, and here I am, doing it. But why? Why do I keep returning to him? Why am I doing this to myself? I'm still not sure. I don't know, and I don't know when I'll know. I don't know if I care, either. And I don't know if it really matters.  
  
So here I am again. Every night this week we've been together. We meet in abandoned rooms all over Hogwarts, sometimes even in closets, or wherever we can be together. We meet late, usually midnight. And then it's all skin on skin and heat and warmth and... love? Well, I do love being with him. I love the way he feels inside of me. But do I love him? I keep thinking about this, over and over again. I can't make up my mind, and I don't know why. Frankly, I don't care. I don't think it matters, not now. Sure, it matters in the long run. But right now, right at this very minute? No. Right now all that matters is feeling him inside me. All I care about are his hands running up and down my sides, his mouth covering my own, and his erection pressed into my hip.  
  
Harry and Hermione can take their love and shove it up their arses for all I care. Tomorrow it'll matter, but it doesn't now. Because right now I have Draco. And he's really all I need. And as I feel the comforting heat and familiarity of his skin on mine and as his manhood enters me, I'm not thinking about love. Not the love I feel for Hermione, or the love he feels for Harry, or even the love we may or may not feel for each other. All I can think about is him.   
  
I keep wondering what really matters, if any of it really matters. I still can't make up my mind. It's bad, I know, but I just can't. But right now, as he orgasms and collapses on top of me, all hot and sweaty and panting, I know what matters. He matters. And then I feel his warm breath tickle my ear and he says those three words I've been waiting to hear, but didn't actually know I'd been waiting for. I love you. Yeah, I know what matters now. Hermione and Harry? They don't matter. Not now, not anymore. Not really. Draco's what's important. I finally realize that. And now, now that we're together in a way we've never been before, I finally feel it. All the pain and confusion I've felt is washed away and I really don't care anymore. And now, now that's he's said it, I can finally admit it to myself. To myself, and to him as well.  
  
I love you, too.  
  
~Finis~  
  
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You read it, right? So can you please tell me what you think?? I'm really curious. I wanna know if I'm any good at writing angst, LOL. Review, please?


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